


Somber Lullabies

by aurorae



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Possessive Behavior, this turned out longer than i initially anticipated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurorae/pseuds/aurorae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illumi will always protect Killua.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somber Lullabies

**Author's Note:**

> crashes thru ur window wheezing _illumi is my favorite character in all of hxh_ so the fact people were talkin bout him got me so frickin hyped and here i am i went through all of pixiv and got inspired especially by [this](http://pechyenka.tumblr.com/post/50700492583/mine-you-are-mine-you-are-mine-to-protect) and [this](http://www.pixiv.com/works/27635147) bc the second to last image of the set gives me strength
> 
> and secret number two **i actually love killumi more than hisogon** but i never attempted it as much bc i hAD NO CREATIVE IDEAS somersaults into the hudson river

“Pl-Please! Do what you want to me, but don’t kill my child!” shielding the crib with her body, her shoulders bobbed up and down with fear, and with the remainder of her courage and unfaltering resolve, she preserved her focus on the pair of darkened black eyes observing her. Pursing her lips, she shook her head adamantly and raised her voice an octave higher that startled her infant into a series of soft whimpers, “Don’t harm my baby!”

The whimpers evolved into louder cries, small arms flailing in place. The mother shifted her focus from the young assassin to her son, cooing softly to ease his rattled nerves; her trembling fingers shook the crib softly. She reassured her son in a warming, loving tenor, “It’s okay…it’s okay…Mommy will protect you, she will protect you with her life, shh, shh…” her voice slipped into a quiet whisper as she dipped her head, pressing her forehead against her child.

Illumi withdrew his hand wielding two large, yellow needles between his fingers; he peered down at the disfigured mafia boss gurgling in his last moments before his bloated neck would eventually close off his airways until he died of asphyxiation: a relatively simple mission his father sent him to complete at the request of anonymous party splurging fortunes for the elimination of a ‘rat’ in the community, along with the only two family members. Quirking his head to the side, he was processing the emotional complications of a woman to her offspring that triggered the necessity for an unselfish, sacrificial choice to fend off an enemy from injuring a babbling infant that could, he assumed, produce a few noises, words, and whines at most.

Drumming the head of the needles against his leg, he permitted himself a moment to gravitate his thoughts on his family’s ordinary tendencies: he and Milluki seldom left the mountain unless ordered by their father, and accordingly their father rarely engaged in discussions with either of his sons unless it was related to a new task. Zeno was often seen near Kikyo to ensure she remained in her room, battling against the sores and groaning aches of her enlarged belly, her lips offered an uncommon, calming smile to the rest of the family in her jaded excitement to deliver her third son. The paternal emotions extended through birth, spare a few weeks, before the Zoldyck family returned into the cold atmosphere it perpetuated – the love was subtle, Illumi knew, and he, nor Milluki, have ever faced a peril that required the rest of the family to get involved. 

Turning on the balls of his heels, he spared a glance at the startled mother mouthing a few, silent words of appreciation having her life, including her son’s, spared than sharing the same fate as the horrifying death of her husband. During his return through the long paths, the sun began to set, the horizon delving into a spectrum of pink, purple, and a dimming yellow shine by the time he arrived at the testing gate. Too consumed with his thoughts to pay the slightest regard to the gatekeeper offering his formal greetings, he immersed himself in the notion of understanding the woman’s feelings to her child – every Zoldyck was aware to care for themselves regardless of the conditions set, and although Milluki was only seven years younger than he and bared the title of siblings, Milluki was dependent as far as the definition extended despite his attachment to Kikyo.

Announcing his arrival, he was unfazed to see not a single person around, yet he did catch the sound of Milluki bursting through a door, informing his mother he returned with a glass of water. Drawing the assumption his mother was recovering and having Milluki cater to her exhausted disposition, Illumi chose to enter his newborn brother’s open bedroom door, uttering a small “Ah” for intruding while Silva and Zeno were conversing around the crib, their discussion reached a standstill to offer a glimpse at the door. Silva dismissed himself, welcomed Illumi from his mission, and presumably left to reevaluate Kikyo’s health with Zeno following close behind. Zeno, however, bore a confident old grin and said upon exiting, “We have high expectations for Killua. When you look at him, determine for yourself whether or not he possesses any potential.”

Illumi walked forward, nudging a stray toy in his path with the tip of his shoe to the side before setting his hands on the safety bar of the crib, curiously inspecting Killua’s small form: his large blue eyes were attentive to his fists prodding against his fleece blanket, the sheet exposed his legs kicking playfully at the plush bedding beneath him, the unfamiliar shadow looming over him that he did not register as his mobile made him freeze abruptly as he looked forward and blinked owlishly at Illumi. Killua’s frown upturned at the corners in an excited smile, he raised his hands in the air, his tiny fingers opening and closing that spurred a genuine amount of confusion for Illumi to react.

Illumi released the bar of the crib, tucked away several black strands falling on his face behind his ear, then seized the opportunity to proceed to the exit, acknowledging he had spent enough of his time to spend a minute longer in a room filled to the brim with colorful toys. Before he could reach halfway to the door, Killua became distressed through small, guttural noises that elevated to a startling, loud wail – as far as he knew, he and Milluki were quiet children when they were born, according to his mother’s less than frequent divulges. Returning to Killua’s crib, Illumi raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift of moods: the beady tears at the corner of Killua’s eyes slid down his temples, his smile had returned, his antics continued as he reached in the air, emitting low whining sounds between his giggles.

Finally yielding, Illumi lowered his hand, much to Killua’s delight as his small, stubby fingers curled around a single finger securely – his grip was easy to escape, but Illumi was well aware Killua gathered all his strength to prevent him from leaving.

“Killua,” Illumi said, he knitted his eyebrows together that his youngest sibling’s name sounded stiff and too unfamiliar for his liking. Seeking a correction to his trivial issue, he tried again, “Kil.”

For a brief moment, Killua failed to respond to the shortened version of his name, his mouth opened agape in the shape of an ‘O,’ seconds pressed on until he exploded in a fit of laughter. Minutes passed when Killua released Illumi’s finger in favor of stuffing his own fingers in his mouth, drool dribbling over his knuckles.

Swiveling the mobile a couple of times to induce Killua in a drowsy state, he opted to sit on a stool to ensure his sibling would not produce another piercing cry that would, at some point, agitate some family member if not Milluki first.

During his wait, he thought that perhaps he vaguely understood the sentiments of the spared woman.

* * *

At the age of two when Killua could form complex sentences and learned to walk without too much of a wobble in his step, he endured the necessary process to accustom his body to various forms of pain and toxins at a gradual pace. Shortly being introduced to the lashings of a riding crop delivered by a less than merciless Milluki, Killua was chained by shackles when he frantically ran around the cell, narrowly evading the tip of the crop brushing against his shoulder blades, and would pound his fists against the door to alert anyone passing outside to set him free—"Gran'pa! Mom! Dad!" his voice would tail into desperate murmurs, his nails raking against the door, "'Lumi…"—reluctantly he became more compliant as the months progressed. His body, however, had trouble stomaching the toxins administered in the juice of his sippy cups or sprinkled on his meals.

Kikyo approached Illumi, a mingled amount of anxiety and thrill contorting her lopsided smile. She explained through gritted teeth Killua refused to eat on the days he was sent on a mission or start an awful fit when anyone had threatened him or attempted to force feed him, but at the same instance she swooned lovingly when Killua would hiss venomously or endure the pains and chills of the poisons resiliently. Requesting he declined most trips to track and eliminate a target, Illumi spent a majority of his days supervising both Killua and one year old Alluka in the playroom rather than leaving the burden to the butlers considering he had no other activities to partake in.

During one night when he returned from a mandatory task, much to his mother's dismay, he settled himself on his bed, binding the long bandage strip around his wrist—his target caught him unguarded, successfully slicing his skin with a knife hidden in his pocket. Mildly disgruntled at the injury, Illumi flicked a needle inside the man's opened maw, between the gasping screams he clicked his tongue at the red beads forming on the cut. "Look at what you caused; now I'm bleeding."—his door creaked open, he adverted his attention from his wound to a feverish Killua snug in his wool onesie, his blanket dragged behind him, his pillow tucked under his arm.

"Oh, Kil," he acknowledged, "weren't you asleep?"

"No," Killua drawled tiredly, he tugged his blanket before adding, "…it hurts. 'M scared and it hurts, 'Lumi." After his confession, the sheen in his eyes exposed the tears trickling down his pale cheeks, his tolerating facade shattered into pieces as he broke into a fit of soft, choked sobs, his fist clenched tightly against his blanket.

"Ah!" clapping his hands together, he explained pointedly, "You know I can't stop what's happening to you as long the family prepares you to become a natural born killer."

Killua's body quivered from a mix of disappointment and pain weakening his trembling legs. Illumi thrummed his finger against his chin pensively, "Maybe if you ate when I'm gone and listened to mom, I might let you sleep here. Hmm, but what happens if you don't commit to that promise…? Oh, then I shouldn't comprise at all!"

"I–I will! I promise!"

Keeping a fixated stare on Killua to detect a change in body language, Illumi broke into a pleased smile. "Very good, Kil! You can come here now,” he said as he knotted the strip into a loose knot.

The elevated height posed as a difficult nuisance given his diminutive stature that he had to use the metal bed frame to have a grip of the sheets to hoist himself onto the plush mattress, disoriented he nearly toppled backwards in his endeavor. Surveying the room with a brief, bleary visual sweep, Killua set aside his pillow and blanket to lift his sibling’s arm, at an unhurried pace he enveloped his arms around Illumi’s neck, his whimpers replaced by heavy, ragged breathing to alleviate the pressure coursing through his body. Illumi rested his hand on Killua’s thick silver tresses, raking through the damp, sweaty knotted strands, his free arm set under Killua’s thighs to support his weight to provide the smallest sense of comfort.

In the following morning, the light filtered through the blinds, rousing Killua from his slumber in a moody manner as he groaned aloud, rubbing at the corner of his eyes to wipe away the layer of crusted, flaky dried tears from the previous night. Unsurprised he was returned to his room, Killua cringed when he ran the pad of his fingers on the crest of his head: the unsettling discomfort pulsated in a single area; he was able to differentiate the pain of objects, the jolts of electricity, and the sickly side effects of a handful of toxins, yet he could not distinguish the cause of the sudden soreness. Disregarding the ache, he set off to join Alluka in the playroom.

* * *

Shortly after Killua turned five, the family was caught in the midst of internal conflict resolving the terms of Alluka’s pesterings with different butlers that occupied the adult’s time, on the sidelines he and Alluka would encourage Kalluto to draw him out of his quiet, shy shell. Admittedly, Killua enjoyed the attention Alluka was gathering as it joined the family together, albeit in a roundabout manner that he droned the chatters of their conversation to resolve the weight of the wish granting while together they constructed mounds of sand castles or alternated to play with the dollhouse to appease Alluka’s playful nature.

In the same time frame after enduring three consecutive years of vigorous torture, his body had grown immune to almost every poison—although not entirely as he still felt ill to more lethal doses—electricity became like a dull sting, and depending on the voltage he would only utter a low hiss. His tolerance to pain increased throughout the months that Silva summoned Killua to his chambers and ruffled his son’s messy hair when he slowly and hesitantly advanced. Taken aback, Killua was beaming when he was informed he could perform his first job at a location relatively nearby; nodding eagerly, he waved farewell and stormed out the door with a newfound enthusiasm—

Silva beckoned Illumi hiding his presence in the dimly lit room. “Follow him every time he leaves. Make sure he stays safe; intervene only when he becomes inattentive.”

“Hmm, that’s fine. I did take a precaution by implanting a needle in his head. Maybe now’s the time he retains it to his memory about facing stronger opponents so he doesn’t make a reckless decision.”

Nodding, Silva approved of his eldest son’s course of action. Illumi paid a visit to Milluki, thinking he would request a favor before shadowing Killua: a little reward to make Killua's first target remain rooted in one spot.

—it was his chance to see the world outside of the mountain range, if even for a few hours: his body was jittery, his grin perking at the corners when he opened the first gate to the outside world; cheerfully he waved at the gatekeeper before setting off. At some point he assumed the hairs on the back of his neck rose due to his excitement reaching the terrace of a luxurious hotel, not entirely because someone was watching despite sparing a glance over his shoulder to reassure his frazzled, hypersensitive nerves that it was only him, an elongated glass pane, and his target. Pressing his back against the protruding wall, he honed his nails, smirking confidently as the footsteps rapidly approached the entrance of the terrace, followed by string of slewed profanities directed at the caller on the phone as the sliding door was opened aggressively.

“I ain’t done with ya, stay on hold ‘cause I got another call!” sucking his teeth, the man grumbled to himself and pressed a button on his device. “Who is this and whaddya want?”

Perched on the roof of the hotel, Illumi chimed, “Stay still for my cute little brother, you’re moving too much.”

_“What?_ Listen here-“

Killua lunged forward, his claws imbedded deep in the man’s chest activity, grinning widely as he extracted the large beating heart and tore a chunk of the left lung when he retracted his hand. Sighing disappointedly, Killua muttered to no one in particular that he still lacked the skills to create less of a red pooling mess like his father, yet he was overcome with a boyish giddiness he completed his first job entrusted by his family.

Tossing the organs haphazardly on the hardwood flooring, he left the scene without a regard to the disarray. Killua encountered Illumi resting his back against the gate of the mansion, welled with pride he ran up to his older brother, the glimmer in his eyes bright and expectant to receive praise.

“I did it!” he announced, waving his arms wildly to emphasize his enthusiasm. “It was really easy too! I’m going to ask dad if he can give me harder stuff to do, like maybe a real challenge!”

In one swift, fluid motion, Illumi kneeled down to Killua’s level. “No you won’t.”

Startled by his cold, flat demeanor, he asked shakily, “Why…why not…?”

“You won’t face anything that puts your life at risk, you are to back down when it happens,” enunciating slowly, he told Killua, “you must always run.”

For the first time in years since his birth, Killua nodded erratically, rushing past his sibling without craning his head to look back:

it was the first time he felt unsettled around Illumi.

* * *

Both Illumi and Killua were called on by Silva to enter his chambers, the siblings held their silence as Silva informed them of their changed objectives: he determined Killua’s initial target could perform Nen—Killua hiked an eyebrow, the uncertainty riddled on his face was disregarded as the explanations proceeded—and concluded with a curt order the mission would be passed onto Illumi while Killua would pursue a bounty ordered by a client. Nonplussed, Illumi encouraged Killua to accept the new terms before engaging in a needless dispute by patting him reassuringly on the shoulder.

_“What!_ ” Killua clamored, swatting his brother’s hand aggressively. “I can do it though! You know I can!”

Silva warningly narrowed his eyes.

After they were dismissed, Illumi shared no other sentiment but casually walked past Killua, wishing him luck in a tenor absent of his frequently feigned empathy. When he was certain Illumi had left the vicinity, Killua acted on his own: he cursed under his breath making a sharp turn upon his arrival at the crowded, cluttered city, determined to take the target out before Illumi arrived at the designated rendezvous; he refused to be underestimated by his father or his sibling.

However, his confidence withered in an instant, in the moment he spotted his former target leering at the streets cautiously, a sharp pang ran through his head that he retreated to the roof of a four-story building to calculate his strategy from above, or at the very least he attempted to formulate a strategy while the pain in his head refused to be kept at bay.

He was outmatched and his body could not budge an inch despite his mind screaming to take action, to prove his family members wrong that he was more than capable of fending for himself,

he wanted someone to believe him.

At first Killua turned away, prepared to flee the scene before he was detected from above. Heaving a heavy exhale, he lessened the anxiety stiffening his movements to face the other way around to try again, to exceed past his skills to eliminate someone stronger than he was-

Killua felt the sensation of his beating heart plummeting, his blue eyes struck with apprehension chancing a glance at Illumi towering over him, his hands slowly approaching his face until they caressed his cheeks. Time reached an abrupt standstill, the surroundings had darkened around him, the hypnotizing gaze immersed him in a state of vertigo, and Killua could only hold his breath as Illumi’s face drew closer until the tips of their nose were half an inch apart.

“You should know better,” Illumi expressed in an ill entrancing voice, “It’s a shame you haven’t learned by now, but I’ll make sure you always remember-”

Killua maintained unsteady eye contact, sweating bullets as Illumi gradually closed the gap between them.

_“Never fight an enemy you can’t beat.”_

* * *

In the next two years, he had seen Kalluto at least once a month clinging close Kikyo, and afraid of his father’s securitizing stare, he had stopped asking about Alluka’s whereabouts in the mansion. Gradually his awareness heightened to grow sick, exhausted, and disinterested to kill on command, knowing fully well he could not stray away from his future profession as an assassin, he was burdened by the Zoldyck lineage to succeed, the expectations of several family members weighing his shoulders down. He was stuck in rut that was sapping away the energy he had to travel the distance to a new location to take down his target, his new surroundings brought light to an answer he was searching for – although he had his family, there was still a hollow vacancy: there was an absence of a person, _any_ person that could bring him genuine happiness.

Killua came to the conclusion when he spotted several children his age playing with thick branches, they imitated the sheen of swords colliding against one another when they swung. Completely overlooking his current job, Killua watched the trio at play staging an act that, through a huffy but humorous compromise, one of them acted as a distressed maiden, one a knight, and one a sinister warlock—a branch was broken in half to create a small, makeshift wand—the maiden of the three lied on the ground, calling to the knight.

"Worry not! I will defeat him!" he proclaimed vibrantly. "Evil will not triumph over good! Take that!"

The third one evaded and flicked his branch. "Your sword has turned on you and injures you through your armor!"

The knight gently tapped the branch against his arm, his knees buckled, and he feigned a weak groan. "Oh no!" he lamented dramatically, "Don't think you've won! Little do you know my trusty sidekick is here to bring you down! Uh, hmm…I need a sidekick now, but where…"

Spotting Killua, the boy waved cheerfully, his tone inviting. "Hey! You! Do you wanna become my sidekick?"

Killua glanced both ways, bemused he asked, "Are you talking to me?"

The maiden boy laughed. "Who else would he be talking to?"

The warlock boy pressed on, "It'll be fun! Come play with us!"

Beaming a wide grin, Killua nodded eagerly, plucking the discarded branch off the ground and holding it up defensively as if it were a real weapon.

The knight continued, "He has arrived! My sidekick…! Um, what's your name?" he said sheepishly.

"Killua," he chirped.

"My sidekick Killua will bring you down! Prepare yourself, evil wizard!"

The warlock chortled maniacally. "I would like to see you try! Try and catch me, silly knights!"

The boy dashed into an alleyway, the knight informed Killua to offer his assistance to capture the enemy, while the maiden would follow behind shortly. To pretend as if he were on the same level as the rest of the boys, Killua waited a few seconds before entering the backstreets, mildly taken aback as it divided into four separate paths: giddy he held his branch high, the sound of a heavy slump directed his gaze on the last pathway leading to a dead end,

Killua's childish grin deflated into a horrified grimace.

Two deformed bodies were convulsing on the floor, several needles protruding from their inflamed, bulged necks. Illumi hummed, tapping the head of the needles against his chin thoughtfully.

Taking a precautious step back, Killua stuttered a response, "Wh-What are you doing here?"

Offering a placid smile, Illumi confessed, "I'm here to make sure you make it back home safely like I always have," lolling his head to the side, he added, "to do so I have to watch you, and I'm always watching you, Kil. It's my duty to see that nothing like these interactions interfere in making you the most successful assassin. You don’t need any friends when they only get in your way.”

The third member of the group stopped near Killua, his hands cupped against his face as he uttered a bloodcurdling scream. "You monsters!" he screeched shrilly, panic paralyzing him in place.

"Ahh, see this, this is why you don't need friends," he affirmed, preparing himself in a running stance.

Killua shook his head slowly, realization dawning over him, and croaked softly, "Illumi, no, don’t…sto-"

A gust of wind swept his fringes, the sound of blood splattering pounding in his ears. Behind him, Illumi stated offhandedly, "Because who would want to become friends with a monster?"

* * *

Using a new task as a ruse to leave the mountain, Killua became disinterested whether Illumi was hidden from view, tailing him under the pretenses of an obligation to shape him into anything short from perfect. Killua searched the city until he began to gulp the lump caught in his throat following a powerful Hunter aware of his presence he intentionally revealed but refusing to strike first. Grateful the area was secluded during the late afternoon, Killua leaped forward, his claws honed to tear the skin of the man’s shoulders.

Before landing a fatal injury, the Hunter grabbed his wrist, using the palm of his hand he struck a forceful, merciless blow directly on Killua's abdomen – their brawl was exactly what he needed to feel numb: continuing an onslaught of ineffective tactics to feel the weight of self-defeat, the waning willpower to continue through a cycle of fear, intimidation, and repetition in his useless struggles to become his own person while everyone else in his family expected otherwise.

In the heat of Killua’s despondent disposition, he weakly curled up on the cold pavement, coughing once to clear his mouth of saliva mixed blood pooling beneath his tongue. The Hunter, having the opportunity to display his aggressive colors to a willing punching bag, cackled sardonically as he announced he would "End it here and now, kiddo."

The concrete shattered beside them, two sets of heads directing their attention to the source of the alarming destruction.

Illumi rose very slowly from the impact of his descent, although normally posed to stand straight, his posture was hunched, his fingers clenched halfway, his neutral, indifferent expression replaced by a looming air of untamed and unrestrainable malice.

Killua had never witnessed Illumi completely enraged, and with the occasion the day presented, he had never been more petrified.

_"Step away_ ," Illumi spoke with a vicious, hostile utterance, his tone made the pair's blood run cold. Taking a glimpse of Killua's condition—he stammered silently after receiving a moment of his brother's menacing consideration—Illumi hissed at the Hunter,  _"You were attempting to kill him_."

The man fretfully interjected, "I didn't—It wasn't like that, I swear! He attacked me first!"

Killua closed his eyes to the echoes of gurgles, screams, pleads, and terrorized cries for forgiveness, help, and mercy. When he arrived home, Illumi thoroughly engraved the familiar mantra in his mind for days and hours to seemingly no end.

* * *

Throughout the passing months after his eleventh birthday, Killua reached his limit.

Slamming the door behind him shut, his pulse accelerated as the bedroom walls seem to constrict around his body, the sight of his room was a dark, obscured spectacle. His window offered no form of solace – it was a fraud, a sham to the concept of freedom as long as he was trapped within the confines of the mountain and kept under surveillance under the watchful eyes of both his family and the butlers' unwavering loyalty to return the successor of the Zoldyck lineage by any means necessary to his rightful home. Grinding his teeth together as his agitation grew to a fever pitch, a scream bottled inside him tore at his insides to escape, to release the wild, aggressive beast that seized the initiative to guide his legs to take the first few steps.

Killua leaped forward, shattering the wall with a vengeful punch, a webline of broken plaster cracked beneath his knuckles, a small cloud of dust forming at the impact. Emitting heavy puffs of air, he inhaled sharply, his lungs tightened before releasing a roaring shout as he jumped from one wall to the next, punching, pouncing, and severing his old belongings into halves with his claws. His longwinded bellow felt like multiple white hot knives making long, thin incisions inside the walls of his windpipe, his face burning at the gradual release of the tension compressed in his resentment, and despite how much he could nearly compose his unsteady emotions from overwhelming him, his violent actions had exhausted him as he plopped himself in the middle of the room to sit, back arched and hugging his knees. Killua focused his line of sight at the window before taking a deep ragged breath, his bottom lip quivering slightly until he bit down on his gums, his fists clenched against the hem of his shorts,

and he cried,

to accept a lifestyle forcibly passed onto him without a single right to decline, to tolerate a profession he had no interest to pursue, to dwell upon his ongoing unhappiness, to recognize that friendship was something that would remain an unreachable dream—to make a single friend that could accept hearing the name Zoldyck spoken without fleeing in fear, that would remind him of his humanity, that would wholeheartedly  _believe_  he had a shred of humanity, to revoke the thoughts trapped in the recesses of his mind that an ordinary life was possible, that his fate was not set in stone, and the monster that sought blood for monetary rewards was something he was molded to become but did not define him as an individual—and any hopes to obtain it would be crushed before it could become a reality.

Weeping quietly, he ignored the door opening and closing in an instant, the soundless footsteps approaching: without looking, he knew his eldest brother intruded at his own leisure. He drew his eyelids shut, feeling the brief touch of his clumped, spiked lashes brush against the puffed orbits of his eyes. He held his breath for a moment when Illumi pressed against him, situating himself in a manner that his legs were crossed under him, his wiry fingers slithered over his neck, over the grooves of his mouth, stopping to cup his eyes. Killua unpleasantly shuddered when he parted his legs, the black strands slipped down his calves at the slightest movement. To control the dread welling in his belly, his shaky hands clamped down on the fabric of his brother's pants.

"Why are you crying? Are you still upset about the truth from that day?" he asked nonchalantly, with his thumbs he ran soothing circles on Killua's temples. "What more do you need besides your family? We would never betray you. There's no friend out there for you, don't you know?" he said with an unquestioning certainty laced in his tone.

Killua curled his fingers.

"You don't have the qualifications to befriend anyone because you were born to kill, just like you would eventually kill them. Say your name, your full name, and you'll come to understand why nobody would want to become your acquaintance, nobody would ever want to call you their friend."

Killua’s body shivered, his mouth fumbling to form the words to retaliate but were caught in his throat, unwilling to be vocalized.

"Can you protect them when you're too afraid to defend yourself? You know you will run because you value your life more than theirs," he tipped Killua's head back and pried his index and middle fingers apart to peer at the pair of watery, widened blue orbs. "You would never have to worry with us: we will always protect you, I will always protect you."

Illumi lowered his head, planting a feather light peck on Killua's forehead, and whispered, "You are mine to protect, Kil."

* * *

On one fateful afternoon when Illumi returned home, Kikyo relayed the message that she was overjoyed Killua had brutally attacked her to partake in the Hunter exams, but she shortly expressed her concerns over his safety. He agreed to leave for the testing site, explaining to her he required a license for his next job regardless.

Throughout the course of the exam, Illumi watched Killua diligently, but refrained himself from acting until it was his turn to face Killua in the last trial. When the day finally arrived after painstakingly waiting to confront him, he greeted his younger sibling, satisfied by the lingering hesitation to confirm that Killua remained unchanged.

Gon, however, was nuisance to Killua's development, and that just wouldn't do, he decided,

not when Killua was rightfully a Zoldyck,

_not when Killua was rightfully his._

**Author's Note:**

> ahh so i alternated illumis characterization from the beginning of the hunter exam arc and the phantom rouge movie bc hes so disturbing in the starting sequence i lovE sobs grossly when illumi called killua cute in PR impale me with a rusty pitchfork
> 
> IF ANYONE HAs killumi ideas just let me kno w, ,, i live and breathe for their dysfunctional relations hi p sweaTS
> 
> Edit: [the best thing thats ever happened to me while buying food tbh ayyyy](http://pechyenka.tumblr.com/post/73652584182/guess-what-i-thought-about-every-single-minute-of)


End file.
